


Challenge the Moon and Stars

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bards, M/M, Snyder is the true villain of newsies, Taverns, Vampires, and steve warzel, felix barbaro is a cat though, sandy lacey is a dog irl, so is regan bruni, the grey lady - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23806711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A bard tells a story of a strange pair of travelers.
Relationships: Don Seitz/Solomon Carvalho





	Challenge the Moon and Stars

“I was in an inn in a little town called Simon near the Hudson River, traveling as I do. It was late and the inn was empty. I was sitting against the south wall with my back to the river tuning my lute when it happened. No-one noticed me. I sat there the whole evening, listening as the townspeople danced and drunk and ate.

Besides me, only the innkeeper was in the taproom. And the two strangers in the back.

The innkeeper didn’t like the pair. You could tell just by looking at him. He gripped a wooden trencher like a mother clutches her drowned child.

Something about them put him on edge.

They put me on edge too. You can tell when people are travelers, normal ones and these were not such. They needed a carriage and trumpets announcing their arrival. I think it was the way they moved like rivers that tipped me off.

One of the strangers waved him over. It was past midnight so the barkeeps had left or gone to sleep in the kitchen and the innkeeper was the only one left to serve them.

He was a proud man. He’d introduced himself to me by saying he’d painted the murals on the walls himself. His nose wrinkled as he stared long and hard at the stranger. I would’ve given my life to warn him not to go over. He didn’t deserve to be ruined like he was.

He made his way over to the pair and I watched with interest. I wanted to know which nobles had wandered into the Dark Lands and why they were foolish enough to stay a night.

“Can we get a beer and a shepherd's pie?” The man had a Hudson accent. It’s like a Brooklyn accent if you mixed it with a Maine one. There is a difference between how the nobles of Hudson and how everyone else speaks. He spoke like the innkeeper, the same accent, the same slight variations in pronouncing certain words.

He pulled down his hood and exposed his strange face to the candlelight. You can’t tell the color of most people’s eyes from a distance but with this man you could. He had russet eyes, like dried blood.

“Make that two beers,” the other stranger pulled down their hood as well. She had hair the color of pumpkin pie and a hooked nose.

“Sorry, Katherine, but no. Your father would send me to Snyder. Just one beer, Mr, uh what’s your name?” The male stranger sheepishly corrected as he ran a hand through his close cropped brown hair. Looking back, I’m pretty sure he was trained as a soldier. It would explain why someone with his accent was traveling with a noble. Anyway, this caught my attention.

Snyder…

How do I describe Snyder the Spider? First off, he’s the scum of the earth. I met him once, just once thank god and he’s a sadistic piece of garbage. As far as I know he scares the crap of everyone. They say Pulitzer is scared of him. In the Dark Lands they send the rebels and anyone who pisses off the kings to Hearst who gives them to Snyder. You don’t joke about Snyder. He grips the fearful thoughts of rebels like a damned man grips his prison bars when the guards come.

“Kelly, the name’s Jack Kelly.” I think the innkeeper was as surprised as I that he gave the strangers his real name. The fae of legends here lurk the night there.. You don’t give anyone your real name. You don’t know if they’re human or not.

“Well, Mr. Kelly if it’s not too much of a bother can we have a shepherd’s pie and a beer,” As the man spoke, he absentmindedly tapped his wide floodplain of a nose. He had a soft face. His eyes looked ancient but his face was almost round and childish.

“Sure,” Kelly shrugged. There’s a children’s rhyme in the Hudson Floodplain about a vampire’s gaze. I think it’s about how they work. If a vampire wants something from you, there’s no way you can’t give it to them. It’s happened to me before. You think you’ve decided to do it, but had it been a human it’s doubtful you would’ve complied.

The man glanced at me. He must have been surprised by what he saw. I am a strange man with dark hair speckled white from a duel with a hydra and art on my arms. I’m proud of it, quite proud but there are always strangers who peer at me like fate-” I’m abruptly cut off by the tavernkeeper. People have begun to gather around me and some of them glare at him for interrupting my tale.

“Are you a bard?” He asks. The man runs a nice tavern, better than most but like most tavernkeepers he has that crazed gleam in his eye.

“Indeed, I am.” They say that to be a bard you must love the sound of your own voice. I disagree. When I open my mouth to tell a tale, it's not my voice but the voice of the people who lived it. The piece I’m telling now, I wrote in my journal a week ago. I’ve a book on lorewriting that I bought in Truman. I wish there’d been more time to polish it and make it sound first rate.

“Did you get food for the night?”

“I did not.” Usually I’ll stay at a bardhouse operated by the local bard’s guild but there isn’t one here. It’s strange to find a town at least moderate size without a bardhouse but this is near the border and it’s dangerous. None of the pressed gaggle around has thrown me a coin yet but I had hoped to eat decently.

“Do you sing?”

“Indeed, I do.”

“If you sing a ballad I’ll give you food,” he says gruffly. I can sing. I wouldn’t be a bard if I couldn’t.

“You got a genre preference?” He shakes his head.

“How do you feel about gay outlaws?” I grin wickedly. Just edgy enough to be cool, but not edgy enough to warrant arrest. The ballad I’m thinking of is a strange one. It’s from the Grey Guild. There aren’t very many songs from the Guild. Not that are left, anyway. I don't know who wrote this one. They usually put their names on it. This one came from after the king banned them.

He grunts and nods.

So I sing, 

“Carlos Maza, Carlos Maza, 

a bard of lower town

Thought and scripted day and night,

till his ideas did abound

His words like temple bells

His glasses twinkle bright

His ideas were catalyst

To dawning mental light

This bard of lower town

His panflute playing loud

He gathered crowds from all around

Who came to see the source of this new sound

_But alas, my friends_

_Our young man whose heart is true_

_As the gods made it_

_The baron is no fan of you_

_Just as I was hated by the king_

_Who wished to tear my tongue away_

_He was hated by the baron too_

_And every day;_

He peered from his castle

In his golden rings

And purple suits

silver, electrum things

Staring grimly at the young man

Who raised the masses with his song

The gay wonk

Who helped give socialists a voice to belong

He drummed his ringed fingers

On his golden throne

declared “I want him chained to a ceiling

His wrists worn to the bone

I want begging before me

His glasses battered

I want him sobbing for mercy

His beliefs shattered”

To his hunter, Blackburn

She leapt from her perch

Besides the golden throne

Took her bow of birch and headed down the road

Now, Carlos Maza was smarter than they thought

For the lord was a homophobe

And underestimated gays

He leapt upon a horse, racing upon a forest path to get to the kingdom of Cuomo

Blackburn followed him into the woods

Cursing her ill luck

Among the many things she said in her rage

She called him a schmuck.

_But, Blackburn_

_We know that’s not true_

_Blackburn, we know the real schmuck_

_Is you_

There were many thing keeping Blackburn back, ie,

Her company was loud and slow

Many not used to hard travel and shoveling refuse

Slowing her as they tried go

Carlos Maza raced ahead

Alone, in the forest green

Thinking he was free of the chase he took a break below a cliff.

He didn’t check how the rocks lean

Well, Blackburn and her motley crew

Were tracking him

Their horses exhausted,

Sweat covering each and every limb

He lay with his back against the shakey stone

Sure of his safety on the riverbank, sure of his luck

But above him

Blackburn was making her way through the muck

She knelt and notched her bow

In the quiet grove

She silently groaned

As her aim strove to be true

But the arrow flew array

And landed on the rock besides him

The stones toppled over

And Blackburn hoped they’d tear him limb from limb

But he fell thrashing

Into the lake

Now nature loved our dear gay wonk

You could say they had a bond

_Now, I myself have been to this lake_

_It truly is a wonder_

_The thunder of the falls nearby_

_To enter it though, is a blunder_

The water seized his limbs

And climbed up his chest

Swirling into him

Each wave half a man abreast

He tried to choke it out

But the water latched onto him

He sank slowly down

Into the deep, in a dreamily watery sleep

When he awoke

He was dry and warm

His limbs were watery

As if he’d been reborn

As a nix

He lay on the lake bottom

Across from him sat a creature of water

You’re the one who taught em?

The creature asked

With a voice like the falls

Of the sand clad Hudson River

In the fall

“Taught who?”

“Did you teach the masses

Who clustered in the towns

Who served the wealthy their asses

“Yeah,”

Our barding boy

Ran a hand through

His now stranger hair, his skin once soy now silver-blue

“What happened to me?”

He asked

Wundering why the sky 

he once basked beneath

Was now gone from him

A fading dream

Something slippery

Strange and alien it seemed

“The hunter from above

was to slaughter you

and that

I didn’t want her to do.”

“Can I go back?

I have a home

And friends

I don’t want to stay here, alone.”

The creature frowned

“Ah, I fear

This a cruel unluck

You cannot stray too far from here

Or else your limbs will turn to ash

Your eyes will rot

Your nose will crack

Your head will empty itself of thought”

So Maza stayed, reluctantly as the nix of Silver Lake

Sometimes he rests on the edge of his lake 

and plays his panflute

To take a break from his endless fate

_And I!_

_I met him once!_

_He gestured me close_

_Away from my journey to the warfront._

_He whispered in my ear_

_His story, his tale_

_His ideas, his dreams_

_His hope that Payton would fail_

_And so I headed east_

_To the warfront_

_To the death_

_To the land that was calm, once._ ”

“Nice song,” the tavernkeeper admits as if it pains him to give me a compliment.

“Can I have my meal?” 

“A deal is a deal,” he heads back to the kitchen. It’s quite late now, I came here a few hours before sunset and the stars have taken to the sky.

He returns a few minutes later holding a slice of rye and what looks to be a stretched out bagel.

“Be careful with Carolyn and Dean,” he says.

“Who’re Carolyn and Dean?” I ask. Maybe they’re some of the people listening to my story? I mean, it almost sounds like he’s referring to the food which...would be strange. A little bit suspicious frankly.

“This is Carolyn,” he responds, pointing to the rye bread, “and this is Dean.” he points to the stretched bagel. Ok, this is...off putting.

I take the bread and put it to the side. I don’t think I’m going to eat tonight.

“Anyway, Kelly headed to his kitchen to get the food and the pair stared at each other as if they were posturing dogs. I had to admire the irritated look the man was giving Katherine.

They sat there in silence till their food came. Kelly, who was quite handsome, bowed as he placed the food on their table. The man counted out silver from his belt and handed it to the innkeeper.

“Do you know how Kendel Seitz is faring?” he asked quietly.

“Seitz from Norway? Ya know zim?” Jack Kelly slid into a seat at the stranger's table and leaned forward. Katherine glared at him in disgust. I could see sharp gleaming teeth perched over her lip.

“I’ll pay you,” the man responded.

Kelly hesitated. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Maybe it was what he could do with that money, maybe he was wondering if he should just rob the man.

“How much?” Kelly licked his lips.

“Five copper,”

That was cheap. Kelly wouldn’t go for it. It was like if someone tried to barter a horse for a potato. They use a different money system then we do. They’ve got copper, silver, and gold to our dollars, dimes, pennies, and quarters.

“One gold,” Kelly demanded. I held back a laugh. That was insane! You wouldn’t buy gossip for a hundred dollar, would you? The tavernkeeper _here_ didn't pay a hundred dollars for my ballad.

“No.” Katherine interjected. She obviously thought her companion was going to barter away all their money.

“Nine copper,” the man rebutted Kelly.

“A silverpiece an’ five copper,” Ten silver make one gold there. Ten copper make one silver.

Looking back, I do think the strange man had a sense of honor. I think he felt that he had to pay Kelly as much as he could and not look suspicious.

“A silver piece. That’s final.”

Kelly paused as he thought it over, “Fine.”

The inn was silent as the man handed the silver over.

“Seitz’s faring fine. Ze just got a new shipment an’ ze’s making plenty of money off it. Ze got a kid a month ago. Zim’s firstborn. He’s named Don. Ya know, after Don Seitz from the legend, the magic kid who got picked up by the baron. Don’t get why ze’d would name their zir after a boy who betrayed us.” Jack supplied. I watched as the man’s face burst into a smile when he heard that Kendel Seitz had a son. Were they related? 

He leapt up from his seat and grabbed Katherine, spinning her around.

“I have a great grandnephew! I have a great grand nephew! They named him after me!” he rejoiced. My ears twitched. This was a song if I’d ever heard one.

But at this point I was exhausted. It must have been near one, and before that I’d be traveling hard for three days. Why? A bard must keep a few of his secrets. I wanted to keep an eye on the strangers but in all likelihood they were just a human merchant and her strange guard passing through.

So I staggered to the room I had haggled for and placed my knife by my head just to be safe. I lay on the scratchy bed and tossed and turned till I slept.

I awoke to humming and a heavy weight on top of me.

I stayed as still as I could, I didn’t open my eyes, didn’t change my breathing simply lay there, listening. Besides the humming it was silent. There was no breathing, nothing.

“I know you’re awake,” the man from earlier said quietly. I stayed perfectly still. Who was he? By now I was sure he was a vampire. But why was he here, rather than plotting away in a castle?

I reached for the knife by my side.

“Touch it and I’ll kiss you,” he warned. I stopped. You don’t want to be kissed by a vampire. They’re intoxicating. He looked ridiculously uncomfortable with the idea of doing it to me. I didn’t like it either.

Most vampires are cruel beings. I don’t like to generalize but in my experience most of them are. He was...different. He seemed kind. He didn’t _want_ to hurt me. Not the way they normally did.

“You seem rather turned off by the concept,” I murmured. He stared at me for a moment.

“I am. I have a husband. I don’t think it’s ok to like, do stuff to people if they aren’t ok with it.” he explained.

“So you’re an ethical vampire?”

“Most vampires are ethical. They just have different moral codes,” he responded.

“Not very good ones,” I grumbled.

“Can’t argue with that,” he shrugged.

“Why are you on top of me?”

“The Princess wanted me to make sure there wasn’t anyone else here. If they were, I'm supposed to bring them to the taproom. I didn’t want you to run. I think she’s gonna take her anger out on you. She’s hungry and pissed to boot. I don’t really get a choice in all this shit. She gave me a direct command. She isn’t gonna like you. Not with what you’ve done.”

“You’re traveling with royalty,” I wasn’t asking a question. I knew of a single female royal. Katherine Pulitzer. Auburn-haired, emerald-eyed, Katherine Pulitzer. 

“Yeah.”

“Then who are you?”

“My name’s Don Seitz,” he supplied.

“The Baron, Don Seitz? The Marshal, Don Seitz? John Norris’s Don Seitz. Like Pulitzer’s second in command, Don Seitz? _That Don Seitz?_ ” I was aware that Pulitzer was protective of his daughter, but sending Don Seitz to protect her? That had to be overkill.

How was this man Don Seitz? Don Seitz was a vicious beast in human form, not this young man. He was supposed to be dripping with blood and smiling like a spider not apologizing for not wanting to manipulate me. Don Seitz was a scarred villain who experimented with magic, not an awkward young man with innocent eyes.

“Yeah,” he responded, “I’m that Don Seitz. Though in my defense I’m not John Norris’s, I’m my own man.”

I swallowed. This was a friend of a man I’d slaughtered. I killed John Norris. I am proud of it. I killed the Duke of Prayton. He had controlled this land. From Norway to Seneca he held domain.

“Well, he’s dead so you can’t really be his man,”

“And you killed him.”

“He attacked me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t care?” he asked, his voice trembling like a string.

“Why?” Don Seitz was a strange man.

“I hated him. 

He took me from my parents. It was when it was still legal to take human children for your own. I was seven or eight and we were all lined up along the road in our Thursday best. He walked right down the road like he owned it. He didn’t pick any of us so we all went home to celebrate our luck. It would be some other town that lost a child. 

That night he broke into my home and woke my parents. Hand me your son, he demanded. He was as old as I am now and while he had been taught by Snyder he hadn’t yet learned subtlety. 

My father, a reverend, held his pentagram in front of his body and stood in front of me. He was a fool. Norris threw him aside and grabbed me by my shirt. It fell to pieces. We were very very poor. My father wasn’t paid for his services. 

So I stood there, topless, shivering and whimpering. He told me to go to sleep and I was human then so I did. 

When I woke up I was in his castle and I had been changed. I was so so hungry. He didn’t tell me what was going on. I didn’t understand what was going on. He sat there looking at me. He asked me my name. 

So I told him. Don Carlos Seitz, Don for a priest who taught my father and Carlos for the bard. He didn’t like the name. He told me my name was Carl. Carl Norris. I said it was Don. So he left me hanging from his dungeon ceiling for two days. I ended up being Carl Norris till I turned a hundred and took my own lands. When he let me down I was so hungry that I attacked him. That was the first time I learned about Strings. He gave me a soldier to eat and I drank the whole man. Then I threw up everywhere. It was too much at once. One of his servants, a man named Price held me while I did it. He played the role of my parent. He and his husband, Bunsen. They were the only reason I ended up sane.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. Why would a vampire confess...all of his internal crap to _me_. 

“You’re a bard. I can smell it on you. Bards are good. I wanted to be a bard when I was a kid. The Gildam was still in living memory, then. My mother saw them once. She said they were just like the legends. Carlos Maza had entered John’s Forest a few years before I was born. I don’t believe in hurting bards. And...this is treason what I’m going to tell you. We’re traveling to Hearst’s lands. Katherine is going to lead an army with Bill Hearst to Tempus. They’re going to conquer it. Then they’re going to move on to other places. I think it’s wrong. Katherine and Hearst were never human. They don’t know what it’s like to live in fear.”

“Let me get this straight. Katherine Pulitzer and William Hearst are leading an army. They’re going to attack us. And you told me this because I’m a bard,” My head was spinning. This, this was big. This was the stuff of songs. This was bad.

“Yeah. But you’ll have to go now. Katherine’s hungry and if she tells me to do something directly I can’t ignore her. Go out the window.”

I took my bag and swung it upon my shoulder. My panflute, I slipped into my pocket, alongside my sword.

“Will she kill you if she finds out?” I asked as I opened the window and swung my leg out.

He paused, silent in thought, “Her father told me to.”

Then, he turned to exit and became a different man entirely.

He was sharp and jagged like the headlands on the sea. His eyes were bright and rough, the eyes of a man who enjoys the pain of the unlucky. His hand rested upon his broadsword and he kept rubbing the pommel.

“Katherine! The fool didn’t sleep here! I think the guy was drunk the whole time. Don’t think he’s gonna remember anything!” He shouted.

“Fine, I have the innkeeper!” She replied.

“I call dibs on him. He smells like magic!”

“Seitz,” she said suddenly, “I might have done something.”

“What?” I listened quietly as he made his way down the creaking stairs.

“I don’t know. I remember getting him down here after that it’s all blurry. But he’s like us.”

“Katherine, dear lord. It’s ok. You were hungry. We can deal with this. Wake him up. He’s gonna be hungry. You’re going to put him in the wagon. We’ll take him with us. Solomon can help deal with this.” I understood now why Don Seitz was a legend to hear about late at night. He sounded like a general, a cruel man, and one who understood power. He sounded like a nightmare.

I rushed to take a horse from the stables attached to the inn and traveled hard for a week to cross the border. Then I came here.” I heave in a breath. The story is done. I can rest.

“But who are you?” The innkeeper demands. Much of the crowd nods along with him.

“Well,” I say, addressing the curious gaggle gathered around me, “You want to know who I am? My name is Steve Lordkiller. The bard who defeated a vampire lord. The vampires are coming for us, and this time they won’t stop until they’ve melted our crowns and taken our people. I am traveling to New Amsterdam to warn Regan Bruni and I leave tonight.” 

I’m lying of course. These vampires are terrible at hiding, I can spot at least four. I will go to New Amsterdam, of course, I don’t intend for them to be blindsided. Not with how close they are to the border. But I have to warn the Premier. I might not love Sandy Lacey but as Premier, Lacey alone has the power to prepare Tempus for war.

  
  



End file.
